Converse with Me Today
by Sky.Fay
Summary: A woman and her silent daughter move in next to the Hoover's. Dwayne and her become close friends while dealing with their crazy families. They're both committed to their vows, but will certain circumstances cause them to drop the vow?
1. Imagine Friends

**_What's even in New Mexico? Nothing. So why did you transfer here of all the God forsaken places on planet Earth?_** Seraphie Adams scribbled on a piece of paper, handing it to her mother as they pulled out of the airport.

Irene glanced down at the note. "It was the furthest place away from that man and I've always wanted to come here."

**_I've never heard you bring up New Mexico once._**

"Am I supposed to tell you every little thing I've ever thought?" She asked smartly. Sera shook her head, casually rolling her eyes to watch the mountains they passed by. "You know, you're going to have to talk at this new school. You can't answer teachers without speaking."

**_I can write._**

The sentence had a few different meanings, which her mother quickly deciphered. "No, you can't. Maybe on the side, but do something productive with your life, not…_that_." She spat. The rest of the ride went on in silence. "We're not talking about this again for a long time, alright?" She breathed as they jumped out of the car. Sera skipped to the back of the car and behind the trailer that was barely filled with their possessions. She grabbed the first three boxes labeled '**MY SHTUFF**', and with a little difficulty, opened the door and carefully made her way up the stairs.

Finally, she found a large room with a semi-fantastic view. "SERA, IF YOU FIND TWO ROOMS UPSTAIRS YOU WANT YOU CAN USE ONE AS A MUSIC AND DRAWING ROOM, OKAY?!" Her mother called, the girl was already beaming. Maybe New Mexico seemed pretty lame and stupid, but this house was nice. "AS LONG AS YOU KEEP BOTH ROOMS CLEAN!" Irene added.

She ran back downstairs to help her mother unpack the rest of the boxes. It was a few hours of her being silent and her mother singing little songs that she made up on the spot. When they were done, her mother drove the trailer back while Sera stayed and unpacked. The living room as basically done, as the furniture had already been moved in by a crew.

_DING!_ The shrill doorbell rung, making her almost drop the painting she had been carefully hanging on the wall.

_Oh man, do we have those happy-go-lucky neighbors who created the Welcome Wagon? Nobody stops by their neighbor's house anymore do they?_

Sera slowly opened the door to a slightly frazzled looking blonde woman, pulling a mini notebook out of her back pocket. Standing in front of her was a cute blonde girl with huge glasses, the aforementioned woman, and a tall, sullen looking boy with black hair that fell into his eyes.

"Hello, I'm Sheryl, you're neighbor. This is Olive, and this is Dwayne." She didn't seem overly peppy. That was good. "Is your mother home?"

**_No, she'll be back in about 5 minutes._**

"Oh," she looked down at the note, not completely fazed, "Okay, we can sit outside. Can you speak or are just…?"

**_Yes, I just don't._**

"O.K." She didn't seem to mind. As they sat on the porch, Sheryl spoke again. "Sorry, I didn't ask; what's your name?"

**_Séraphie_**.

"Say-rah-fee?" Olive sounded out. I shook my head, smiling.

**_Sarah-fee it's French, you can just call me Sera (Sarah)_**

"Oh, that's a pretty name. So why don't you talk, Séraphie?" Olive plopped down next to her on the edge of the porch, dangling her legs over the side.

**_My parents don't want me to be a writer; they refuse to help me get into a college that'll lead to a career such as that. This is kind of like protest I suppose._**

She carefully read the notebook. "Dwayne is kind of like that, aren't you?" She called over to Dwayne. He slowly turned his head toward the two girls, shrugging. "He doesn't talk either, but he wants to be a pilot one day, right, Dwayne?!" She called to him again. This time he looked at them and nodded. "So do you want to write books?"

**_I guess…I'd write anything really. Novels, short stories, screenplays, poetry, and I'd even be an editor if it paid._**

"What's a screenplay?"

**_Movie or T.V. script._**

Before anyone else could speak, Irene pulled into the driveway with a huff. She stepped out of the car, running a hand through her gray obvious gray roots, she desperately needed to re-dye her auburn hair. "Sera…?" She looked at her daughter, questions everywhere. "Are you our neighbors?" She asked politely, a smile plastered to her face.

"Yes, I'm Sheryl. Nice to meet you…?"

"Irene," they shook, "You've already met Séraphie."

"Yes, this is Olive and Dwayne."

"Well, would you like to stay with us for dinner?" Sera shot a look at her mother, pleading for her to take it back. It was too late now though.

"Um, maybe," she seemed a bit surprised.

"Oh, and don't be offended by Sera. She doesn't talk to punish me and…and her father." The woman stuttered on the word.

**_I don't think Bill really cares whether I talk to him or not. _**

"Yes, he does. He didn't like it when you decided to do this."

**_Anything annoys that man. _**

"It's not an annoyance it's…" she looked politely at the whole Hoover family, "We'll talk about it later."

_Her signature line…_ Sera rolled her eyes and stood, examining the old porch.

"Eh, that one doesn't talk too much either."

As the mothers began telling their stories of divorce and difficult teenagers, Sera ran up the stairs to begin unpacking her things. "…Maybe I shouldn't have let her get those purple streaks in her hair, gave her too much of a sense of independence." Her mother joked, making her stop short on the stairs, notebook in hand.

**_They're lavender._**

"Sorry," her mother answered sarcastically, "Lavender," she relayed to Sheryl. "Are you unpacking?" The girl kneeled on the steps again and nodded. "Okay, anyway…"

"Dwayne, why don't you help her?" There was a silent battle between mother and son. "I'll get you pamphlets." His shoulders came up and down as if he was heaving a sigh and he trudged up the stairs. Politely, she waited for him before jogging into the hallway and trying to remember where her two rooms were. Once she found her bedroom, she took out her notepad again.

**_You don't have to help if you don't want to._** He looked at the paper and shook his head, taking the pad and pencil from her.

_She'll find out if I don't. I might as well._

**_Pamphlets for what?_**

_Test pilot._

She slowly nodded at the pad and tossed it on a smaller box. Pulling a Swiss army knife out of her pocket, she went to work opening all of the boxes. It was a bit difficult to communicate sometimes, but they managed. Finally, they got to one final box stuffed with pillows and blankets that were going to be placed on the bare mattress on the floor.

He watched her take it out, eyeing the bed a bit confused. After noticing his expression she picked up the pad. **_I don't have a bed. They take up too much unnecessary room._**

He just sort of slowly nodded, like she was crazy. She didn't even bother to make the bed look pretty, she plopped about five blankets and five more pillows onto the ground and headed out of the room and into the one right across from it. **_You're NOT allowed to help me in here. I'll explain it to your mom if there's an issue._**

He nodded once and plopped down in the corner of the room. She looked around, tearing open the box with her trumpet and saxophone, then mellophone and keyboard. Exhausted from the day she took a deep breath in and slowly looked around, quietly exhaling. One last box: the one with art supplies and a little stand she used as a makeshift easel. When everything was done and in its perfect place she stood in the doorway, motioning for Dwayne to follow her downstairs.

**_You keep staring at all the things in my room. We're not rich, my father used to buy me things to make up for being a sucky person._** When he simply nodded at the words, she was worried that she had overstepped some kind of boundary, that he was getting annoyed with her. Quickly though, she shook this off, and told herself to stop being so paranoid.

Before she could go off thinking anything more, she almost fell on the slippery stairs. Dwayne had stopped short mid step. She looked over the railing, there was another new person here this time. It was a man who looked Sheryl's age. _Probably her husband, _Sera thought.

Finally, she prodded him in the back, trying to get him to go down the stairs. Even if he didn't want to see this person, she needed to go to the car to grab her phone. Their fridge was empty, so she hadn't understood why Irene had invited these people over. Slowly, he made his way down the steps, trying to make as little noise as possible. The adults were too in conversation to pay attention anyway.

So the two of them, followed by Olive, walked out of the house. The younger girl lagged behind, wanting to talk to Sera. "Will you come over to our house?"

She shrugged and nodded, following the little girl down the sidewalk. She began rambling on about beauty pageants and school. "….Your hair is really neat." She squinted up at Sera's light brown hair streaked with _lavender_. "Is it dyed?" She nodded. "What does it normally look like?"

**_Black._**

"Really, then it's dyed all over?" More nodding. Olive didn't really ask any more questions.

**SERA**

"Where did you live before you moved?" Olive asked. I already had my pen and paper ready.

**_A place called Ellington, it's in New York._**

"Ooh, is that near New York City?" She asked excitedly.

**_No, I live right on the New York-Pennsylvania state line. I'm about five or so hours away from the city, but I have been there a couple of times._**

"Oh…but that's still pretty neat." We quiet for a few more minutes. "Dwayne took a vow of silence too. He wants to be a test pilot, I think." I nodded, smiling. "How old are you?"

**_17_**

"Then I think you'll be in the same grade as him. Do you like him?"

**_He seems nice, I don't know too much about him so I couldn't say._**

She nodded slowly, and then looked surprised as if she forgot something. "I'll be right back!" I sat at the table and pulled out my phone. For a minute I stared at a blurry picture taken nearly a year ago. Though I hadn't really enjoyed my old town, I had enjoyed the company of some of those people there. _I won't make any friends being the weird, silent girl._ I looked down at my pink hedgehog sweater and studded shorts. _Oh, well…doesn't matter too much._

Suddenly someone was behind me. I jumped and turned, it was only Dwayne getting a bottle of water. He looked at me like I was an intruder. **_Olive invited me._** I scribbled my explanation. He nodded once, still looking a little confused. The girl in question excited sprinted into the room.

"So are you going to go to our school? There's only week left, but I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you came." I shook my head. _How are they still in school?_ "Why not?"

**_I finished up my school year, besides I'm not enrolled yet._**

"Oh, okay." She shrugged and began flipping through a magazine that had been sitting on the counter. Dwayne sat in the seat beside me.

**_Olive told me why you don't speak. I get it; neither of my parents wants me to do what I want._**

_ What do you want?_

I thought about what I should write for a moment. The reason for my silence wasn't just because the people in charge of me didn't agree with my idea of a job, there were other reason. Before I could scribble me typical answer, Olive piped up again. "Why wasn't your dad there?"

**_They divorced, that's why we moved here._**

"Oh, sorry."

****I was about to write something cynical or sarcastic, but when I looked up at the innocent girl; I figured that wouldn't be the best decision. **_It's okay._** She looked back down at the magazine. I looked at Dwayne. **_The bastard kept the house, so we moved to the other side of the country._**

_ We moved here because of that too, and then she met Richard. He's the other guy in your house; he's kind of an ass._

**_This'll sound awful, but I was happy when they finally split._**

_ I get what you mean._

I stared at the pad of paper in front of me for a minute. Was there anything else to really talk about?

**_Do have a favorite author?_**

_ Yes, that would be Friedrich Nietzsche I suppose._

**_ German? His name sounds familiar, name one of his books._**

****_Yeah, 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra'._

_**I don't believe I've ever read that. Do you own it?**_ I looked at him hopefully. I hadn't read a new book in God knows how long. He nodded, standing and motioning for me to follow him. I jumped out of my seat, glancing back at Olive as we stepped out of the kitchen.

He led me up the stairs, through a dim hallway, and into his room. I was surprised at the lack of mess. I sat down on his bed waiting for him to find the book. I looked around at all the airplanes and posters in his room. This was really his life.

I jumped when I felt something in my hands. Dwayne was sitting next to me on his bed, handing me a worn looking book. When I opened to the first page, he moved a little closer to me. After flipping one or two pages I stopped and set the book down, his head was nearly on my shoulder at this point.

**_Am I reading too fast or too slow?_** He just shook his head and we went back to reading.

* * *

**So that was cool. Tell me what you guys think. Updates will be seriously spaced unless I get a ton of feedback (whether it be bad or good) because I had the smart idea of starting up another story while I'm in the middle of three others. **


	2. Face to Door 1-2

"SERA, WAKE UP!" Irene called with a toothbrush in her mouth. The half-asleep teenager rolled over in her bed to look at a cat clock. 8:53. It was way too early to wake up at this ungodly hour during summer. Her mother popped her head into the bedroom. "Okay, just making sure you were still alive. You should really go over to the Hoover's again, Sheryl said you don't even need to ask to come over any more. Olive and…and what's-his-name?"

Hurriedly, Sera scribbled on her hand, sitting up on her bed. **_Dwayne._**

"Oh, yes, of course. Well they both love spending time with you. Sheryl said she even thought that Dwayne might like you." The forty-some-year-old woman sounded like a school girl. It was painful for her daughter to listen to. "Besides, she said she wanted to see your new haircut."

**_It's just a bob._** She picked up her pad of paper.

"Why are you arguing with me? You _love_ going over to their house!" She sounded disappointed.

**_I'm not arguing. Just saying…_**

As she walked out of the door, she stuffed the notebook in her drawstring bag. She had gotten her hair cut only a few days ago. It had simply been cut into what was said above; a soft, wavy bob. Her hair hadn't been shorter than the bottom of her neck in a while.

The first thing she noticed was the amount of noise that seemed to come from the Hoover residence. It was more than Richard's average rants and Olive's excited voice. "Mom! I think Sera is here!"

The door swung open to an excited looking blonde girl. "Sera!" She bear hugged the older girl and led her into the already familiar house. She skipped up the steps to her bedroom.

"I just entered the Little Miss Sunshine contest. It's in California, I think, I and really hope I get in. I mean, I think I will, but I don't know." She took a gigantic breath in.

There was a knock on the door.

**_Calm down and breathe._** Sera leaned against the wall closest to the door.

"Come in!" Olive called.

The door swung quickly swung open, and Sera was caught behind it. She handle hit her ribs, while the rest of the door collided with her face and the rest of her body. The person behind it hurriedly shuffled to see what was behind it.

_Are you okay?!_ A hurried scribble in pen was thrust into her face. She pushed it aside, glaring at her attacker.

She snatched the pen out of his hands. **_I'm not 'okay', you ass._**

He smirked at her, snatching the pen back. _At least you're not dead, or have a concussion._

_**Damn i—**_

"Sera, do you need a band aid?!" Olive gasped. "There's blood on your head!" She almost shrieked. "I…" she took a deep breath, "I'll get it."

_No, I'll go down. Just stay up here. You don't like blood anyway, and it's got to be cleaned off._

Dwayne shut the door behind them, closing it softly this time. _Am I really bleeding?_ She thought, bringing her hand up to touch the sorer spots of her cheeks. Sure enough there was a little dab of red.

**_I'm not gushing blood, am I?_**

_ I'm pretty sure you really would've freaked her out if you were._

They trotted down the stairs and into the first floor bathroom, where Dwayne pulled out a dusty first-aid kit. The plastic clicked open and he pulled out a medium sized band aid. Then he turned on the water a stuck a nice, small, white towel under the stream of water. He forced Sera to sit on the edge of the tub, carefully patting her face with the towel.

She pulled out her notepad, careful not to move her head and to only move her eyes downward to look at the paper.

**_Isn't this going to ruin the towel?_** He simply shrugged in response, and a calm, focused expression returned to his features.

Finally, he knelt in front of her to pat her cheek at a better angle, leaning in a bit to make sure there was nothing in the small scrape. His eyes flicked up to her twice, and the second time they stayed there. He awkwardly half-grinned at her, and abruptly opened the bandage. Being careful and gentle, he pressed it to her cheek and helped her stand from the low tub.

The two smiled, both semi-uncomfortable, until Sera pulled her hands away from him and quickly walked out of the room. It could've been more awkward, she said to herself.

**Sera POV**

_What was that?_ I ran my fingers through my hair and sat down at the kitchen table while Olive ran up to it.

**_ I'm going to go now. I have a migraine, I'm sorry. Tell Dwayne I left._**

I slipped the note to her and headed for the door. "Bye, Sera!" She called as I twisted the handle. Even though she wasn't looking, I turned my head back to nod in her direction.

"What happened to your face?"

**_ I was standing behind a door, and Dwayne swung it open really fast. It scratched my face._**

I rubbed my sternum; there was definitely a bruise there too. Eh, it wasn't like anyone would see it.

"Oh!" Mom was surprised. She was surprised easily though. And she wasn't very observant. A lot of the time she barely listened to me. I would say something or answer a question, and ten minutes later she would come crawling back telling me to answer her. Maybe people just lose it after thirty. "As long as he apologized I guess it doesn't matter. He likes you, I can tell."

**_Why don't you focus on your own nonexistent love life before tampering in my imaginary one? I don't want to date anyone, anyway._**

But as I wrote it, I realized it was cruel and went to crumple it, but before I could she snatched it from me. I ran up to my room before she could scream at me for being a terrible child. She probably wouldn't have, but I figured I'd leave before she thought of what to say.

* * *

**This is insanely short and I'm so, so sorry. I've updated two other stories today, and I'm kind of going insane. I was on vacation all last week, and I've just been plain busy with life and planning some things. (Namely a trip to Europe, figuring out how to fund-raise is kind of a drag). Anyway, I'm just going to update this chapter in a week at the most, so if you see that I haven't posted a new chapter, don't fret, I've simply added to this one. Or do you guys just want me to add another chapter, would just adding to this one be weird or confusing? Tell me in the reviews, and thanks as always! **


	3. Face to Door 2-2

I felt bad. I felt really, really bad. It was stupid to put that on a piece of paper, even if I hadn't had the full intention of giving it to my mother. For the past two days she had been all passive aggressive toward me, and I hated that.

I suppose it wasn't that bad; I just stayed up in my room, re-reading the book that Dwayne had lent me. I think that it was the seventh time I had read it. Every time I found something new, or saw something in a different light. That, and I had read the heck out of the rest of my books. But alas, I figured that I should finally return this piece of art to him before he started missing it or thought that I had lost it.

My mother was at work and would be there long into the night.

During my short walk to my neighbor's doors I thought of how good of friends I had become with Dwayne in the short amount of time we had been here. I didn't like the weather in Albuquerque, it was too bland and dry for me. Even though I had lived in the middle of nowhere in New York had always been even and nice. None of the seasons were too harsh, and they were all diverse. There was barely a tree in this godforsaken land that was going to turn brown or red or even pink come fall.

I knocked on the door twice as loudly as possible. A few seconds later man in a white suit answered the door.

"Hello?" He asked.

I pulled out the pad and jotted down a sentence on it.

**_I'm here to return a book to Dwayne. Is he here?_**

I tried my best at smiling, gently handing the paper to him.

"Yeah, he's here." He turned and called something to Sheryl, who sent a very excited looking Olive upstairs. "I'm Frank, by the way, Dwayne's uncle."

**_I'm Séraphie, just the neighbor; it's nice to meet you._**

"Your name is French?"

I nodded my head excitedly.

"I believe it comes from the name, or, well, names, Séraphine or Séraphina?" It was more like he was asking himself, but I nodded still. Before I could write something down or Frank could say anything else, Dwayne was looming in the doorway over his uncle by only a few inches.

He nodded once at me as if to say 'Hello'. I nodded back. With a slight sigh, Frank turned and walked around him to Sheryl. Dwayne didn't look happy. I pulled his book out of my bag and softly pushed it into his hands. He still looked upset.

Seeing the pad of paper in my hand and the worried expression on my face, he grabbed the paper and pen.

We're going to California.

**_Why?_**

Olive has one of her damn beauty pageants there. She was accepted.

**_So you guys have to go?_**

Yeah…it's going to be her, Richard, mom, Richard's idiot father, Frank, and I on a goddamn road trip. We're leaving tomorrow.

He was obviously pissed. I didn't ask about the road trip anymore.

**_Why is your uncle with you?_**

He tried to kill himself.

I stared at the words on the page in front of me and nodded.

**_Anyway, thanks for the book. I read it a few times, that's why it took so long for me to give it back. And I'm sure something good is going to come out of this trip, maybe. Oh, and tell Olive goodbye for me, I probably won't be awake when you guys leave anyway._**

As he finished reading, and looked up at me with a slight smile I wrapped my arms around him. It was impulsive and strange. I wasn't all about physical contact, even with friends. At first he hesitated, but just as his arms were about to wrap around me, I pulled away. We were just friends, so there was no reason for the hug to last any longer than that necessary time.

I smiled brightly, gave a quick wave and ran off to my own house. I didn't really need to leave, but I wanted to be alone today. I ran into my house, almost wishing I could talk so that I could sing, but quickly pushed the notion aside. Sticking to my vow was important, and had been easy so far.

I ran up to my extra room full of instruments and art supplies. I mindlessly sketched, not really paying attention to the circles I was drawing. The circles turned into a head and joints, which turned into the body of a mermaid. Around her grew a cave with a pool that led to the beach. She was sobbing. I didn't know why at first, but by the look of her eyes she was hurt yet had a sickly look of satisfaction.

She was gripping a seashell with both hands, cutting through the middle of her tail. She was making legs. Her forehead, slick with sweat and water, was creased, but soft. She had limp, tangled hair that fell to her hips and covered her chest.

I don't know why I draw horrific things like that. It's like they form themselves and I'm just there to make them real. They probably all come from some insane part of me that only likes to creep out onto paper.

I took a breath after I finished, criticizing it and shutting the book. Stretching, I stood and checked the clock hung over the door. It had taken almost three hours. The rest of the day I didn't really do anything, but write out some ideas I had for stories. I truly lead an exciting life, don't I? Soon enough, I sat down at the computer in our bland living room and messed around for a while until Irene got home.

"What's going on at the Hoover's?" She asked.

**_Why?_**

"I don't know, I saw Olive and Sheryl outside with some man dressed all in white. Olive looked excited."

**_She got accepted or something to be in this child pageant. It's somewhere in California._**

"That's exciting."

**_Those pageants are gross._**

"Oh, please, if that's what she wants to do then you should be supportive. I'm sure her family is."

_**Dwayne and Frank don't seem excited.**_

"Who's Frank?"

**_Sorry, he was the guy you saw dressed all in white. He's Sheryl's brother._**

"Oh, well what does Richard think about this?"

**_ How should I know? He's kind of a jerk; I usually avoid him when I'm over there._**

"Do you avoid him? Or are you too busy kissing his son?"

**_ A: Gross. B: He doesn't have a son._**

"But isn't Dwayne…"

**_ Didn't Sheryl tell you about her ex-husband? I've heard you two commiserating about that crap more than once. Dwayne and Olive are half-siblings._**

"Oh, I guess I forgot."

_I guess_, I thought. She forgot everything, she was hardly the most observant person in any room, and was constantly telling me how millions of guys were totally in love with me. It's like we were from separate planets sometimes. Our overall relationship wasn't that of the stereotypical "I hate you, Mom," stuff, but we didn't always agree. I mean, we weren't really close either; I tried to impress her sometimes, and didn't want her to know everything about me.

The one thing I couldn't even comprehend about her was the fact that at any given time she thought that at least two guys liked me. In my whole seventeen years of existence not a single guy had said that he likes me, tried to kiss me, or anything. I wasn't complaining; most of the guys I know are total idiots. Idiots that I'm really good friends with, but still idiots. C'mon, boys are pretty stupid.

That and according to every single non-male friend I'd had since eighth grade, I'm apparently oblivious in the department. I don't think I am, but who knows.

**_I'm going to bed now._**

* * *

**I'm sorry this is so delayed and probably terrible, I really am. I've been super busy with making up a weeks worth of school work and tests, speed practicing two weeks worth of piano, and trying to memorize Funky Town and mellophone finger numbers while marching. ;_;**


	4. Quiet Movie, Quiet Car

I couldn't go to sleep. It was too hot even though I was almost completely stripped down and sprawled under a thin sheet that had been in the freezer. I hate New Mexico. I wished that I didn't sometimes, but I couldn't change my mind about this damn state. Swirls and shadows came out of the darkness as my vision became blurry and my eyes dry.

When I woke in the morning I wasn't sure if I had slept or not. Regardless, I jumped out of bed and slipped on leggings and a loose tee with a print of Edgar Allan Poe on it after I took a shower. My mom was already gone by the time I had skipped downstairs, and poured myself some cereal.

I grabbed an almost filled notepad that had a few stains on the purple cover from the ceramic bowl on the table. As I doodled little people staring down at the ocean from a cliff edge, someone softly knocked. Slowly, I stood and glided to the door. It was Dwayne.

He looked anxious. His mouth opened a few times as if he was going to say something, but thought against it. _Is he going to talk?_ I asked myself.

"I'm talking, again." I was almost shocked at his voice. I had imagined it to be higher for some reason. He stiffly stood in the doorway.

**_You can come in if you want._** I wrote under the cliff and ocean.

"Thanks." He mumbled, ducking his head and walking further in to the living room, where he slowly picked a chair and sat.

**_Tell me about your exciting road trip._**

"Well…Richard was an ass, we almost forgot Olive at a gas station, Edwin died, the pageant was horrifying, and we found out I'm color blind." He said the last part in a hushed tone. "But not necessarily in that order." He gave a weak laugh. I slumped into the couch next to him.

**_That's kind of sad about Edwin, but what about you being color blind?_**

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess if I really want to be a pilot I will. You," he stared hard into my eyes, "You don't think I'm being stupid, or strange do you? Now I sound like an insecure thirteen-year-old, but…"

**_NO. The whole vow thing is up to you, I don't think it matters whether you stick to it or not, as long as you do what you want to do. _****I****_ know that probably sounds like a bad line out of an uplifting book about doing your best in life, but oh well._**

His laugh was low, but it made me smile. "Thanks," he shook his head.

**_I like your voice. The probably sounds really weird, but since I've stopped talking I've been listening to people's voices. That doesn't sound any less strange, but, yeah…_**

"I, thanks," he raised an eyebrow, "I'm glad I'm talking again, it feels normal. But this is a bit odd- talking to someone who doesn't I mean. It's not a bad thing!" He reassured.

**_It's fine, I know what you mean. Oh, and I have a question._**

****"Yes?"

**_What's the school like? _**

"What do mean? Is it filled with idiots or…?"

**_ Well that, but how big is it? How many kids are in your class? Who's the most annoying person, some people I shouldn't talk to, etc. _**

He went on about it. Not necessarily saying it was the worst place on the planet, it wasn't exactly the best public school, but what school is. He droned on about the jerks and the jocks. I sat there, nodding and occasionally writing something down. By the time he was pretty much done forty minutes had passed by, and an idea had come to mind. I didn't generally show people my art, but we were good friends, and he had been kind to me…

I wrapped my hand around his wrist, pulling him along to the steps. He was startled at first, but followed me to the art room. Sitting in the corner, near a window, was an easel with an old dish towel draped over it.

He stayed in the center of the room, not moving, as I pulled away the cloth. Carefully observing his expression, I watched him edge closer. It was a painting I had done the other night, actually. With nothing better to do, I had driven out to an old trail and began painting the sky from the top of the mountain.

"This is amazing." He stuck out a hand to stroke the stars. I stared down at the ground.

**_ It's a real place. I drove out there one night, it's really nice there. Maybe I can show you one day._**

"That'd be nice." He answered. "Is it just a trail?" I nodded. After a minute he stopped admiring it. "Do you want to come see Olive, I think she's missed you." He smirked.

**_Alright, I'm sure I'll get to hear all about the trip from her too. _**

I smiled softly and led him out of the room and down the stairs.

"SERA!" Olive yelped. She had been sitting in the front yard ripping up a little piece of grass. She flew into my arms so hard I almost fell backward into Dwayne. "We're back." She beamed. I nodded. "I missed you, and did you know that Dwayne is talking again?" When she looked up at her brother, a shadow of sadness swept across her eyes. I nodded again. "Sera, when are you going to start talking again?"

I shrugged, pulling out the pad.

**_ I'm not sure, as soon as my mother stops being mad at me for wanting an unrealistic job._**

"Oh, okay," she squinted as we sat down in a circle on the grass. "I want to hear your voice. You've got to promise me that when you stop the vow I'll be the first person you'll talk to, okay?" I nodded, being very serious. "I mean, Dwayne wants to hear you talk. He was talking to Uncle Frank about some other-"

"I never said that." He cut in, plucking a clover out of the ground.

"Yeah, you said that if-"

"No, I told Frank that I had a friend who also had taken a vow of silence, and he told me that I shouldn't care if she…judged me because I'm talking."

I passed the pad to him.

**_ You really thought I was going to be mad?_**

Olive craned her neck to read the note.

"Well, yeah…I-I don't know, I just…"

I shoved the paper at him again.

**_And when you were talking before you sounded so intelligent! I'm sorry, in writing that sounds really rude and really mean. It's not supposed to be; I'm joking. I mean, I knew you were smart before, but…yeah…apparently the wannabe writer can't be articulate today. I don't think I am most days, but…yeah…_**

****He chuckled as he watched me write. His laugh was low, but smooth. "I know what you mean."

"Hey, do you guys want to watch a movie?"

I nodded. "What movie?"

"I don't know, didn't mom just get one?"

"We're not watching that."

"But-"

"No."

"Okay," she relented, "Is there anything else?"

"How about we watch _Batman_?" He looked between me and her for approval. I shrugged and nodded. Olive heaved a deep sigh and began trudging toward the house.

**_What movie did your mom just get?_** I stood and leaned against his shoulder, showing him the paper.

He rolled his eyes and leaned down a bit to reach my ear. "_Brokeback Mountain_, and I'm pretty sure that's gay porn." He whispered to me. I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. I couldn't even imagine Olive watching that.

This went on for about two weeks. I became used to Dwayne speaking, and even more used to his voice. I actually liked it, in a way. Almost every day I showed Dwayne a new picture, and I even let Olive see a few of my sketches. I gave her an old notebook full of graph paper and taught her how to draw some easy things. We watched movies; well Olive watched movies while Dwayne and I talked. I suppose all of the conversations were a bit one-sided, but they were interesting nonetheless.

**_ I'm glad I have a reason to write out my thoughts instead of attempting to say them aloud. I'm not too successful with that, usually._**

"I think I would have understood what you meant either way." He whispered. Olive had already shushed us (him?) twice, and was getting a little annoyed.

"Can you guys go up to his room? I really want to watch this." Her voice wasn't rude at all. That's one of the things I loved about her; she was so kind.

I dragged myself away from the dingy couch, and followed Dwayne up the stairs. Frank was flipping through a French magazine. I'm sure he could've gone back home by now, but he hadn't.

I gave him a short wave to be polite, but the man was barely paying attention. "I think you should visit France."

"Me?" Dwayne fell onto his bed.

"Yes, who else would I…?" He looked up from behind his magazine. "Oh, sorry, Séraphie. And yes, you; though you should go to, Sera. It's a wonderful country."

Dwayne humphed under his breath. "I bet they have ever more fucking beauty pageants than California and Georgia combined."

"Actually," Franked sat straight up, "Not too many people really like them there. I mean, they're popular with some people, but I wouldn't be surprised if they banned those things in…" he mulled it over, "Seven or eight years." He looked at me. "Would you like to go to France."

I hurriedly pulled out the pad of paper from my pocket.

**_Of course._**

"See, you're not alone in your secret desire to go to that marvelous, marvelous country, Dwayne."

He rolled his eyes, and sat up on the bed. "That's marvelous to know, Frank."

I knocked on the Hoover's door.

No answer.

I knocked again.

No answer.

Again.

"Hello?" A semi disheveled looking Dwayne answered the door. His hair was dripping and matted to his head, he was holding a foamy toothbrush in his hand. "I'll be back in a minute." He raced off to one of the bathrooms. I stood in the doorway, writing out a note.

"Okay," he was back with brushed hair and no toothbrush. "What-why are you here?"

**_Do you have your license? I need a ride to a convenience store, and I don't know where it is._**

"Sure, let me ask first." He disappeared into the house again. Twenty seconds later he was back again. "Let us depart." I glanced at their car, and grabbed his wrist, leading him on to our driveway were a nice, little Saturn was sitting. I motioned to it. He grinned. "Is our car not good enough?"

I gave him an incredulous look, making jokes in my head.

For a while we rode on in silence, with the static radio droning on in the background.

"What did you need from the store?"

I shrugged. Waiting until we were at a stop light to show him my pad.

**_ Just some bread and whatever else I see that I need._**

He slowly nodded as the light turned green. "Where did you live before? I can't remember."

Again I waited until we came to another red light.

**_A place called Ellington, NY. It's actually pretty close to Pennsylvania._**

"Okay," he nodded. We turned again and he pulled into a small, dirty looking, convience store.

**_Thank you so much._** I handed him as we stepped out of the car.

"It wasn't like I had anything better to do today." He stopped before we walked in. "That's not what I mean."

I smiled and nodded, shrugging. "Wait! I have to go get something from the car." Before he jogged back to the vehicle I handed him a note.

**_You can just stay out here if you want, this is only going to take a minute._**

"Eh," he shrugged, "What if you get robbed." He joked, turning and speeding toward the car. I smiled again and strolled into the store. Thankfully, and surprisingly, bread was near the front. I grabbed the one that looked the best, and paid.

As I walked out, I began fishing through my purse for the pen that I had dropped only a few seconds ago. I set the bread down on the dirty sidewalk next to my feet. I felt some one's eyes on the back of my head. Slowly, I turned.

There was a man, probably only forty-something, but looked much older. There were terrible, dark circles under his beady eyes. He was only three feet behind me now, staring at my purse.

"Hey, so can you give the time?" I took a step back, panicking as I looked for the car. I couldn't find it now. Without any other words, he reached for my arm and neck, slapping me hard in the stomach. I opened my mouth as if I was going to scream.

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**I'm such an awful person who doesn't update as much as they should because they have tons of other stuff to do with their limited free-time. I'm sorry, and I'm not being sarcastic or anything with that last sentence. Well, it's late now, so I'm not going to write anymore, and I hope you enjoyed.**


	5. Speak

I'll save all of you the suspense. I screamed. It was that kind of panicking, shrill scream that hurts your ears. I wasn't too proud of that screech, I especially wasn't too happy that I had just broken my vow of silence.

Before the creepy man could grab my purse, I flicked a butterfly knife out from one of the pockets closest to me. Still holding onto the bag, I swung it open and pointed it at the man. He stopped pulling, but kept a dead-lock grip on it.

"You wouldn't." His disgusting breath washed over me. I heard a car door slam, and someone footsteps slapping on the pavement.

I nodded once. "You're right; I have more morals than you." As quickly as humanly possible, I dropped the knife and reached into a pocket on my shirt to pull out a pen.

"Let go, little girl, some pen isn't going to-!" It was his turn to scream. He finally released my bag, and backed away holding his hands over his red eyes. God, I love mace, and I don't get to use it too often. I gave the man a swift kick to the groin and backed up into another body that had been sprinting in my direction. I bent down to grab my knife, and ran to the car with Dwayne right behind.

"Well," he took a breath, "That was badass." He pointed at my knife.

"Yeah, but I talked." I sighed into my lap. His eyes widened a little.

"What…what are you?"

"Well, that was one of the rules I made for myself. If I ever made a noise, no matter what the circumstance, my vow would be broken, and I would talk again. I know that sounds strange, but it's too late now." He stared at me for another second, before starting the car, and pulling out of the parking lot. I glanced in the review mirror; the creep was still on the ground, rolling around like an idiot.

"I think I know what you mean about voices. How some people have really interesting voices, or how you like the sound of someone's voice. I like your voice." I raised, an eyebrow, but glanced up at him, and smiled.

"Thanks, usually I'm showered in that compliment, but as of late, that river's been a bit dry."

He had this stupid grin on his face that made me smile.

"Still, if you're upset about break the vow you could always start over. That wasn't voluntary, a fucking weirdo was trying to rob you."

"Nah," I shrugged, "It's alright. I'll stick by my weird rules. Besides, it's not as if I'm going to give up on being a writer." I stared out at the bright blue sky above us. It really was gorgeous here. "You know, where I used to live, you wouldn't be impressed with our hills. Or mountains. We have a lot of trees, and it's colder sometimes, but I like it here. At least, I'm getting used to it." I started babbling on. Another reason I didn't like talking aloud. I was very good at it, at least when it came to talking to people. I can read a book or lines from a play out loud any day, it's harder to come up with my own words unless they're on paper.

"I'd like to see pictures of where you live." I nodded slowly, not wanting to speak. I usually messed things up when I did. I would always get in trouble for talking when I was kid, at least with my parents, I was silent in school. My father would scream at the top of his lungs, if I accidentally interrupted him or my mother; and that was only at age six. I had been terrified of him since I was five, and had always secretly wanted my parents to get divorced.

Everything about my father annoyed me. I despised him, I couldn't help it. I had always been scared his screaming and yelling would go beyond words, but, thankfully, that never happened.

I shivered in my seat and turned the AC down. "Oh, are you cold?"

"Yeah," I answered back plainly.

"I'll just turn it off for now. I think I'm used to the heat here." He said smartly. I grinned and shook my head.

"I have no idea how you wear pants in this weather."

"Eh," he shrugged.

_Way to keep up the conversation, Sera._ I chided myself. You know how some days you feel like you really just suck at life, that's pretty much how I felt.

"So," Dwayne's voice cracked through the silence, "How was your old school?"

"What do you mean?" I lifted my head up from the seatbelt.

"Was it bad there? Was it nice? I don't know." He paused as we turned onto the road where we lived.

"I don't think it was too great. They didn't have any creative writing classes, and messed around the music department a lot, so that was pretty annoying. I mean, in band, I played French horn and the band program was good. I'm pretty sure I'm going to get a horn, I have a mellophone because it was cheap, but I didn't use it too much. We didn't march too much, which was kind of sad, I like marching. I bet you don't want to hear about the music department though, I don't have too much bad to say about that, even if I'm pretty sure the school board attempted to decimate it.

"Anyway, the kids there were okay. No one made fun of me, if that's what you mean. Most people either _really_ didn't like me or I scared them. I had a few friends, and I always attempted to be nice to everyone, especially when they deserved it. I mean there was this one time when I was a freshman…but, no, it's stupid. Never mind, it doesn't matter."

He cleared his throat as we gently pulled into the driveway. "Tell me."

"Nah…."

"C'mon, I'm sure it's not that ridiculous."

I stared out the window. "Fine, fine…we had these long tables at lunch, and I sat with my group of weirdoes, but right next to us was this group of people who I guess were the actually the popular kids in my grade. Well anyway, we were messing around, tossing a waxy apple from person to person. One of my friends set it in front of me, and jokingly, I hit it with the back of my hand, and it rolled down the table; at a rather slow pace mind you. It knocked over some jocks juice cup, and they all freaked out and wouldn't leave me alone. About halfway through the whole ordeal they tossed this giant wad of dirty paper towels in front of me. They wouldn't stop, and eventually went to the principal, who was in the cafeteria that day and got him to yell me. I had to clean it up for them, with all of the girls in there group watching me. They just kept staring at me, even after I pointedly looked at them. The worst part is one of the girls is actually a sort of friend of mine, but usually only outside of school. I never reacted to them, but I kind of wish I had just told a teacher that they were bothering me."

He didn't say anything for a second, making sure I was done, but nodded.

"That's kind of awful. All for a juice cup?" He smiled.

"Yup," I took a deep breath. "At first I thought they were joking, but…but it became pretty obvious fairly quickly." I grabbed the door handle and pushed. He jumped out as I did. "Hey," I called as he turned his back to go, "Just…just don't tell Sheryl or Olive, okay?" I yelled.

"Tell them what?" He swiveled around on his heel to face me. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish and ran up to him. Making sure there weren't any listening ears in the neighborhood, I stood up my tiptoes to be closer to his ear and whisper.

"I don't want them to know I could've been hurt. Either way it'll get to my mother, and I don't want her to panic."

"Oh, yeah, no. I didn't plan on regaling them with my terrific tale of woe, anyhow." I giggled rested back on my heels.

"Great, thanks!" I gave a short, quick wave and turned toward my house.

* * *

**Ooh, plot developments! Anyhow, this one was quick, but I hoped you like it. I think this had four followers and I really want to know from you guys if you like long chapters or short ones. **


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